


And we will never be forgiven for the sins we did

by nameless_constellation



Category: uta no prince sama
Genre: Assassin AU, Gen, I guess you could see the romance if you swing that way, where Satsuki has a one night fling with his victim, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:37:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_constellation/pseuds/nameless_constellation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A life in exchange for a string of numbers and a one night fling. And we will never be forgiven for the sins we embody</p>
            </blockquote>





	And we will never be forgiven for the sins we did

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin AU where Satuski is an assassin and Ai is his victim, the heir of a wealthy corporation. They have a one night stand before Satsuki puts a bullet through Ai's head.

_"I shall sing for your soul."_

Satsuki doesn't look up. He carries on walking down the green-lit alley with heavy footsteps, as if the owner of the voice didn't exist. His glasses were crushed somewhere between the bulky laptop and the .38 revolver in his mountain-climbing backpack. He really didn't care if the lenses broke, they could always be remade.

"I shall sing for your soul, mister. It is clouded." The simple voice spoke up once again, fragile in the foggy cramped alley. The voice's hands shook slightly, holding a dusty elaborate ceremonial staff, probably stolen from a temple in the woods. No one would care. No one should care. The young person, clad in tattered shrine attire tilted his gaze up at the man with his back towards him, not the least fazed by his massive build. The ends of his long teal hair brushed against his high collar.

"Would you like a song for your soul, mister?" He had a voice so gentle but sharp, it could slice through the air like butter. Satsuki had stopped walking away, now turned around to face the annoyance. His green eyes flashed, as he stared down at the youth crouched upon a tattered tatami. A chipped ceramic bowl sat before his skinny knees, a few pitiful coins gleamed dully up at him. The feet near the bowl were small and frail, pale enough for the blue veins to shine through.

"Enough. You're annoying me." The words this time were sharp as a whip, crackling with frazzled nerves. The youth held his gaze firmly with his blue-green eyes, never wavering even a little. In his had, the staff's ornament sways slightly, even though there was not a sliver of wind in the stuffy walkway. The silence was weighted and palpable.

He was before him now, his scuffed shoe centimetres before the frayed ends of the tatami. In a split second, the ceramic bowl was smashed in half, the coins scattering far and wide, clattering loudly, as few and in between as they were. The youth didn't do anything, not a single blinkering or gasp. No, he was very very still.

Satsuki was panting now, his chest heaving beneath his tailored suit, beads of sweat trickling off his forehead. A master, much sought after assassin cornered in an ally by a child. How hilarious. "Would you like a song for your soul, mister?" He heard it again but the youth's mouth didn't move an inch.

" _Would you like a song, mister? For your soul."_

The memories of a rainy night came falling down, crashing into his world like a meteor. An heir of a wealthy corporation, a quiet youth of age 15. Shut in and kept like a bird in his cage, a sitting duck for a skilful assassin. It was quick and easy, one of the cleanest kills he had. The scene had remained almost like how it started, except for the heir that lay unmoving, his clothes rumpled as if undone, a faint kiss lingering on his cold lips and a bullet through his head, blood staining his teal hair. The red marks on his necks were starting to fade, so was the warmth that had came from the other. The young heir held on tightly to the flower he was given by a strange visitor who stayed the night with him. As Satsuki left the apartment, his lips had moved, a ghost back from the grave.

" _I shall sing for your soul."_

A scream rang out from the alley, the splintered ceramic bowl smashed further into powdered dust. The quiet youth with the face of an angel, sits in silence, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. His long uncut hair almost brushes against the scum in the ground. The ceremonial staff remained tightly in his clenched fist. The tatami remained as unstained as it was.

Satuski walks on, beyond the sight of the carnage. His hand twitched slightly from the exertion. The walls on either side of him were dirty and mucky, as if they haven't been cleaned in decades. This time, his footsteps were the only sound in the vicinity.

" **Would you like a song for your soul, mister?"**

_And we'll never be forgiven._


End file.
